


Yeehawgust Day 28: Drunken Brawl

by TheSoleWookieCourier



Series: Yeehawgust 2019 [23]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 03:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21421315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoleWookieCourier/pseuds/TheSoleWookieCourier
Summary: This story ties into Day 27: Showdown
Series: Yeehawgust 2019 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543978
Kudos: 1
Collections: Yeehawgust 2019





	Yeehawgust Day 28: Drunken Brawl

**Author's Note:**

> This story ties into Day 27: Showdown

The flight to the Prydwen was silent, save for the sound of the rotors of the vertibird. Once the aircraft docked with the Brotherhood of Steel’s flying fortress, Captain Erich Richardson disembarked, his boots ringing on the flight deck. Whispers followed him as he made his way into the command deck of the airship, all the way down to where Lancer Captain Kells controlled the ship. Erich numbly gave his report on his mission to eliminate the Railroad leadership.

And now, he found himself in the mess area of the airship, a large bottle of whiskey in front of him, which was now about half empty. He held his glass up, holding the glass from the bottom. After a few moments, he downed the glass’ contents in one swallow, feeling the burn of the alcohol slide down his throat. Unfortunately, the burn wasn’t caustic enough to remove the pain and regret that he was feeling away. He grabbed the bottle and served himself another glass. He slumped down, crossing his arms on the bar top, staring at the glass. He dimly registered another person sitting down next to him.

It wasn’t until Knight Rhys leaned over and began talking to him that Erich even noticed it was the knight.

“Well well well, Paladin. Seems like you have the bad habit of picking the wrong friends.” Rhys sneered. “Makes me wonder why they even let in wastelander scum like you.”

Erich turned away, doing his best to ignore the other man. He grabbed his glass and once again drained it, grimacing as it went down. Rhys chuckled as the Sole Survivor poured himself another glass. “Jesus, man! You can’t even handle your liquor like a real soldier!” he stated loudly, causing many of the other Brotherhood members milling about to look over. “Man, you vault dwellers really are soft! I’m surprised the military even let a weakling like you serve before the bombs fell!”

Erich glowered at the knight before turning back to his drink. Several onlookers turned away, feeling awkward as they witnessed Rhys continue to berate the clearly grieving man. “I heard that the military pre-war was so desperate for bodies, they began drafting women. Tell me, Paladin… were you the first to sign up for the all-women’s brigade so you could fit in?” At this point, Erich sat up and turned to face the other man.

“Can it, knight.” He growled, his voice slightly slurred. “In case you’ve forgotten, I still outrank you, whether you like it or not.” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

“Aw, what’s the little man going to do?” the belligerent knight asked, his tone mocking. “Is he going to go to the Elder because his feewings got hurt?”

Erich turned back to the bar and grabbed his bottle and glass. With his cargo in hand, he walked past Rhys, intentionally bumping into him harder than he needed to. As he began to walk away, Rhys couldn’t resist one more jab.

“Look at him walk away, guys. That’s our paladin, knights. The one who would rather side with the machines and the race traitors. He’s no hero; he’s a fucking coward, and he deserves to die, just like Danse and his Railroad buddies.”

Erich stopped in his tracks. “What did you just say?” he asked, not turning to face the other man. His voice was astonishing clear and deadly serious. All chatter in the mess hall suddenly died down.

“You heard me. You’re no more fit to lead us than the synths, muties, wasteland scum, and race traitors you pal around with.” Rhys spat, his tone full of venom and spite. Erich turned, his face set in a furious glare.

“I’ll have you know that Danse is a hundred times more a man than you ever will be. For someone who was born in a lab, he sure seems to have more humanity than you ever will. And if that’s how you feel about me, I’ll have you know I would rather die with my friends than serve with a bully like you.” Erich responded, his voice level.

“Well, then, maybe you should. I’d kill every single one of them if it meant that we would finally be rid of you. And, I’d keep that pretty little reporter of yours for last so you could watch her begging for her life.”

The whiskey bottle and glass shattered as they hit the deck. In a flash, Erich had closed the distance between him and Rhys. He caught the knight around the middle, sending both men to the floor. Erich drew back his fist and sent it rocketing into Rhys’ face, followed by the other. Shouts erupted as bystanders began egging on the fight.

“Does… this… feel… like… I… don’t… belong?” Erich asked between blows over the din of the other Brotherhood members yelling and jeering. Rhys struggled to defend himself, but the rage of the Sole Survivor was just too much. Erich pinned Rhys’ arms to the deck with his knees. With his left hand, he grabbed Rhys around the throat and continued to pummel him with his right hand.

Suddenly, Erich was wrenched back off of the knight, still swinging. After a few vain attempts at striking the other man, he just hung there, resigned.

“Come on now, Paladin,” Proctor Ingram shouted, her tone disappointed. “That’s no way to properly discipline the man.”

Erich swore, trying to pry the fingers of Ingram’s power armor frame off of his collar. “Let me at him! I’ll kill the bastard with my own two hands if I have to!”

“You will do no such thing!” a voice roared from behind the two. Elder Arthur Maxson strode into the room, flanked by Lancer Captain Kells and Knight-Captain Cade. Maxson’s face twisted in a look of fury. The room fell silent as the three entered. Maxson turned to Erich.

“Go to your quarters. Now. Do not leave there until I send for you. Is that understood?” Erich nodded curtly, his face set in a look of defiance. As Ingram set him down, he brushed her hand away, straightening his collar by himself. He then back to the bar, grabbed another bottle of whiskey, a bottle of Nuka-Cola, and a glass before marching out of the mess hall towards his quarters.


End file.
